


It's Alright, It's Okay

by DialedIn



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Spacekru family, Temporary Character Death, Time Loop, chopped holiday trope exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:21:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28304472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DialedIn/pseuds/DialedIn
Summary: Clarke makes it onto the Ring with the rest of Spacekru. What happens when New Years Eve keeps repeating itself? And what does Murphy have to do with it?
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Echo, Clarke Griffin & Spacekru, Clarke Griffin/John Murphy, Emori/Raven Reyes, Monty Green/Harper McIntyre
Comments: 11
Kudos: 38
Collections: TROPED: Holiday Trope Exchange 2.0





	It's Alright, It's Okay

**Author's Note:**

> This was a true challenge, and I enjoyed every minute of it! I really love what this story turned into, and I hope everyone enjoys it!
> 
> Special thanks to friends, both in real life and online, who have provided valuable support and encouragement. This story wouldn't be what it is without every one of you.
> 
> I created a playlist on Spotify but for some reason I cannot get it to link here - so search It’s Alright, It’s Okay - Chopped Holiday Exchange and it should come up. Sorry for the confusion.

  
  


Clarke woke up in her narrow bed on the Ring, unmistakably not alone. “Shit!” she exclaimed, smacking the muscled arm that was currently enclosing her in a sleepy embrace, “Wake up, Murphy! We fell asleep, you need to get back to your room before anyone else gets up.”

Murphy grunted an unintelligible reply, before tightening his grip around Clarke’s midsection and snuggling deeper into the embrace.

“Get up!” Clarke tried again, sighing with exasperation but also grinning coyly to herself. As much as she didn’t want to be found out by the rest of their space family, she couldn’t deny how nice it felt to be wanted.

“You were the one who wanted me to stay,” Murphy groused, though Clarke knew he was mostly joking. He rolled over and kissed her softly.

It had happened purely by accident, Clarke had drawn the short straw when it came to dealing with Murphy after his and Emori’s messy and resounding breakup, and had brought his nightly portion of algae to where he was secluding himself in a far corner of the Ring. Murphy had slung one too many sarcastic comments, trying in vain to disguise his pain, and Clarke had refused to back down, fighting back just as hard against her own heartbreak. As Clarke advanced on Murphy, intent on not letting him have the last word, he closed the space between them and captured her mouth in a rough kiss. Her shock lasted only a few seconds before she matched his ferocity and within minutes she felt his hands and his mouth  _ everywhere _ , their clothing discarded haphazardly around them. Afterward, when they sat together both consumed by their own pain, they agreed that keeping the development between them was paramount. It wasn’t love at all, they knew, just a way to make the pain just a little bit quieter, at least temporarily.

Before  Clarke could spend too much longer worrying about being found out, Murphy had extracted himself from the bed, and started searching for his clothes. 

“Nice view,” Clarke quipped, smiling while she stretched.

Murphy stopped one leg in the pair of pants he held, “At your service, Griffin. Are they still doing the big New Year’s party tonight?”

“As far as I know,” Clarke answered, pulling a shirt on, “I need to talk to everyone else, but last I heard tonight was the night they wanted to celebrate.”

“Don’t know what there is to celebrate, stuck in this tin can,” Murphy muttered darkly, his face clouded over with his habitual mask of heartache cloaked as simmering rage.

Clarke swallowed thickly, she hated seeing Murphy like this, no matter how hard he tried to conceal his misery, she recognized it because it was a constant companion in her own life. She figured that’s why this arrangement worked so well for the two of them, they could both pretend that they weren’t heartbroken beyond repair, and they could stop being the only unattached people on this damned ship.

“Don’t be like that,” Clarke chided gently, though there was no real emotion behind it. “I think it’s nice everyone is trying.”

Murphy mumbled a reply that Clarke couldn’t make out, and she didn’t feel the need to ask for clarification.

“Will I see you there? Or are you going to hide all night?” Clarke asked gently. As much as she understood Murphy’s pain, she selfishly didn’t want to be alone tonight, the only single person among her friends.

Murphy paused and turned to look at her before leaving the room, his eyes full of something Clarke couldn’t name. “I’ll do what I can,” he said simply, and left the room before Clarke could react.

When Clarke finally emerged from her room, the first person she ran into was Bellamy who was reading in the communal area of the Ring. “Anything interesting?” Clarke asked, plopping herself into an empty armchair. 

Bellamy held up the book in response, “No, just something I picked up to keep me busy.”

Clarke nodded in understanding, and asked, “Are we still getting together tonight for the New Year?”

“Yeah,” Bellamy answered, “Monty and Harper are doing a lot of the planning for it, so you might want to check with them. But yeah, it’s definitely happening. Echo is excited, she’s over talking with Raven and Emori now.”

Clarke nodded again, not really sure what else to say. After so many years of survival on the Ring, Spacekru as Echo had started calling the collective group, had become as close as any family. While Clarke was grateful for the support and comfort, she still felt overwhelmingly lonely at times. 

Later that morning Clarke was laid across the couch, idly sketching when a flurry of giggling and whispers announced the arrival of Monty and Harper. Clarke sat up, waving as the two walked into the room. “Hey guys, do you need me to do anything for tonight?” Clarke asked, pasting a smile that she hoped appeared genuine on her face.

“Clarke!” Harper exclaimed, “No, I don’t think we need anything else, just everyone to come. Do you think Murphy will be there?”

Clarke feigned indifference, “I honestly have no idea.” She hoped they bought her lie. If Harper or Monty suspected anything, they kept it to themselves.

By lunchtime, Clarke was climbing the walls with boredom. Most days were like this though, mind numbingly boring, especially when everyone else was paired up in domestic bliss. She thought about heading to Murphy’s area to pester him and fill some of the long hours until she could occupy her time with the party, but quickly dismissed the idea. 

“Knock knock,” Echo said as Clarke sat down to her bowl of algae.

The entire group groaned. Loudly.

“Alright. Who did it? Who taught her jokes?” Raven asked, trying unsuccessfully to hide her laughter.

“She found an old joke book,” Bellamy replied, his voice muffled as he had placed his head on his folded arms in a gesture of exasperation.

Echo cleared her throat comically loud and looked around the group with an impatient expression.

“Who’s there?” Harper asked, too nice to not play along.

“Lena.” Echo cackled with delight.

“Lena who?” This time Bellamy was playing along, indulging her in only the way a boyfriend could.

“Lena a little closer, and I’ll tell you another joke!” Echo burst out laughing.

“Please no more jokes,” Monty feigned a grimace, but his face was kind.

Clarke laughed without restraint, and it felt so good that she almost forgot her earlier pain.

Clarke reread the same paragraph for the third time in a row, half listening to Monty and Harper’s gentle laughter from the kitchen area. They had volunteered to do dishes, declining Clarke’s offer to help. Bellamy and Echo had left after lunch, citing a training session, while Raven and Emori had disappeared into the control room to work on the comms system. Murphy hadn’t made an appearance at lunch, to no one’s surprise.

A sudden boom interrupted Clarke’s musings and everyone looked over toward the bridge where the noise had originated. Emori made her way out of the doorway first, removing a pair of goggles and waving smoke away from her face. When she saw the incredulous looks she was receiving, she giggled, “Sorry about that! Bigger boom than expected.” Raven nudged her way past Emori, grinning when she saw the crowd assembled, “We’re okay, sorry about the noise.” 

Clarke shook her head, entirely unsurprised by the shenanigans Raven (and now Emori) got up to on a regular basis.

“Just please don’t blow up the ship,” Monty urged, fighting back a smirk, “we still have two years left.”

  
  


“Time to train!” Raven yelled, swatting at Clarke’s outstretched leg with a magazine as she walked by.

Clarke pulled herself up to a sitting position on the couch, and quipped, “I’ll pass thanks.”

Raven had spent far too much time since they’d been on the Ring looking into ways to keep them occupied while stuck in space for so many years. One of her ideas had been physical activity, and she had enlisted Echo’s help in creating their own form so that they “didn’t all get soft stuck on this ship.” Secretly, Clarke thought Echo just liked being able to beat people up, and Raven liked being in charge of people getting beat up.

“Aww, come on Clarke, everyone has to do training,” Raven coaxed, “it’ll be fun.”

Clarke snorted, “That’s what you said last time, Raven, right before Echo kicked me in the kneecap and I couldn’t walk for a week.”

“I said I was sorry!” Echo called out, not missing a beat in her preparations.

“And I forgave you,” Clarke laughed, “but I’m still gonna pass. I’d like to be able to walk tonight at this party.”

Echo nodded solemnly, “Smart move.”

All Clarke heard as she made her way towards her room was the sound of laughter, she shook her head in amusement and kept walking.

  
  


When Clarke reached her room she was surprised to see Murphy already there, leaning up against the door.

“Took you long enough,” Murphy griped, though Clarke detected no seriousness in his voice.

“I didn’t know you were expecting me,” Clarke answered pointedly.

Murphy suddenly let out all the air in his lungs, deflating so completely that Clarke turned to search his face.

“Come on,” Clarke said finally, “I could use some space viewing, and I’m betting you could as well.”

Murphy nodded, but didn’t say anything as he turned to follow Clarke.

They had discovered the little nook with a view shortly after they had started sleeping together. It had quickly become a spot to hide out from the rest of Spacekru, a spot to talk uninterrupted, and more often a place to be alone in their thoughts. 

Murphy settled into place first, gently folding his too tall frame into the small space. Clarke followed after, sitting close enough she could feel his breath on her cheek.

Once they had settled and Murphy had become preternaturally still beside her, Clarke leaned into him and asked gently, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Murphy let out a quiet, bitter laugh, then growled, “No, Clarke, I don’t want to talk about it. Do you want to talk about your reasons for being heartbroken and pity fucking me in an abandoned corner of this damned space ship?”

Clarke stilled completely, her breath catching in her throat. She knew him well enough by now, to know that this was an armor he wore, and not words he really meant. Knowing him like she did however, didn’t mean she was going to back down completely, and she retorted sharply, “I don’t have to stay, Murphy.”

He didn’t say anything, but she felt the fight leave him.

“I’m not the enemy, Murphy,” she finally murmured, “it’s okay to let me in sometimes.”

Clarke tucked her legs up underneath herself as she settled into the couch cushions later that evening, and watched as Spacekru filed into the room. Wrapping her arms around herself, Clarke smiled as Bellamy flopped down at the end of the loveseat, pulling Echo down with him. Echo settled next to Bellamy, before throwing her legs over his lap, turning her body slightly to be flush with his, her arms entwined with his. Harper and Monty took a seat on the opposite side of the couch as Clarke, still giving her plenty of room for herself. Filing in just after came Raven and Emori, giggling at some inside joke, and collapsed together in an overstuffed armchair. When Murphy stumbled in, deliberately avoiding eye contact with anyone in the room the energy in the room stilled, the group collectively holding its breath. Clarke watched him carefully, they had all been on edge when it came to Murphy and his moods, and more often than not it was Clarke who was the only one able to reach him.

“Murphy,” Clarke beckoned with a wave, “come sit here.” There was enough room on the couch, the only piece of furniture left in the room, for Murphy to sit fairly comfortably.

Murphy glanced around the room briefly, pointedly avoiding Emori, and made his way over to Clarke with the caginess of a panther. Instead of sitting on the couch next to her, Murphy instead plopped himself down at Clarke’s feet, resting his back on the couch and pointedly ignoring everyone else in the room.

Clarke sighed, lowly so no one else could hear, then nudged his shoulder with her knee. “You okay?” Clarke asked the question pointedly, but quiet enough that only he could hear.

Murphy shrugged his shoulders, his unwillingness to answer not a surprise.

Clarke didn’t respond, Murphy would talk when he wanted. Before she could think any more about Murphy and his capricious behavior, Raven and Monty stood up and faced the group.

“First off, welcome to our Spacekru New Year’s celebration,” Raven beamed.

“And second, I brought the alcohol!” Monty interjected, playfully nudging Raven’s shoulder.

“Yes, yes,” Raven acknowledged, cackling, “but who rigged up movie night from the old tech on this damn ship?”

Monty made a show of bowing before Raven, while the rest of the group cracked up at the display.

“So what are we watching?” Emori called out.

“I’m so glad you asked,” Raven replied, smiling at Emori with such tenderness that it made Clarke instinctively look towards Murphy. 

Murphy hadn’t moved his gaze from a spot on the floor, his clenched fists the only indication of his emotions. Clarke squeezed his shoulder, knowing that doing anything else would make the situation worse.

Everyone should have known that Echo’s proclamation of “Truth or Dare time!” after an hour of drinking moonshine and watching movies was a bad idea. Were it not for the moonshine Clarke figured she would have had the wherewithal to stop the game before it ever started, but Echo was persuasive and excited and Clarke was a little too drunk and sad to put a stop to anything.

“Who gets to go first?” Bellamy asked, obviously the most sober out of the group.

Echo’s hand shot up obnoxiously fast, nearly knocking Harper’s drink out of her hand in the process. “I’ll go first, it was my idea!” she cried, practically vibrating with excitement. 

Bellamy laughed, “Truth or dare?”

“Dare!” Echo laughed, rubbing her hands together like a cartoon character. 

A series of giggles broke out amongst the group, and Bellamy looked at Echo expectantly and smirked, “I dare you to kiss the person to your right.”

Echo looked at Bellamy, sitting directly to her right, stuck her tongue out, and sniped, “That’s boring. You can kiss me anytime. Oh well, make it good.” She winked at him, and kissed him rather more passionately than was warranted for a group of their closest friends.

After her dare was completed, Echo sat back into the loveseat’s cushions and surveyed the room for her next victim. “Let’s take turns,” she announced, “so Raven. Or Emori I guess.”

Raven and Emori, still sitting together in the chair with Emori more or less on top of Raven, both looked over at Echo. “I’ll go first,” Raven announced, taking a sip of her drink, “truth for me.”

Echo grinned broadly, before snapping her fingers and declared, “What do you wear to bed?”

Cat calls and assorted laughter rang out among the group, Clarke couldn’t help the grin that flashed across her face. Raven’s cheeks turned red, and she gently nudged Emori with her shoulder as she answered, “Lately? Nothing.”

At her answer the whole group exploded in laughter, and Emori’s face flushed even more red than Raven’s. Clarke resisted the urge to rest her hand on Murphy’s shoulder, and silently hoped the rest of the game would not get any more difficult for him.

After blessedly benign dares from both Emori and Monty, Harper’s turn made everyone laugh as she answered a truth question. “Has anyone ever walked in on me having sex?” Harper repeated, slightly dumbfounded, “I don’t know Raven, what do you think?” Raven covered her face with her hands, silent laughter making her body shake slightly.

“Murphy? It’s your turn,” Echo announced, and Clarke felt her body still with nervous anticipation.

Murphy took a deep drink from his cup and spoke so softly Clarke almost didn’t hear him, “Truth.”

Echo, who was a bit past tipsy at this point, and clearly not thinking of the implications of her questions, giggled as she asked, “When was the last time you kissed someone?”

Clarke, who had been on edge before the question was asked, felt her body go completely cold as she waited for Murphy to answer. She knew when his last kiss had been, this morning in her bed, but no one else in the group did.

Murphy chuckled darkly, a sound that made Clarke more nervous than the initial question. “This morning,” Murphy smirked, looking directly at Emori when he said it.

Clarke felt the energy in the room go from silly drunkenness to absolute seriousness in seconds. If she hadn’t been so worried about Murphy, she would have found it hysterical.

Emori looked back at Murphy, gaping at him like a fish out of water, before finally asking, “This morning?”

Clarke felt Murphy’s body go rigid with tension, and this time she did put a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off, which didn’t surprise Clarke at all, and rose unsteadily to his feet. “You’re kidding me, right?” Murphy growled, “You don’t get to have a say in who I kiss, or when I kiss them.” Without a second glance, Murphy angrily stalked out of the room, leaving Clarke to helplessly watch him go.

Clarke was in her bed, sketching again, when the door opened abruptly as Murphy strode in.

The devastation in his face rooted Clarke to the spot, breaking her heart in the process. He stalked toward the bed, grasping her face with both of his hands and kissing her roughly, brokenly.

“Murphy,” she mumbled through the harsh kisses, “what’s wrong?”

His body stilled, then trembled with the intensity of his despair. Clarke’s heart shattered when he looked at her, tears welling in his eyes, and whispered in a voice more broken than she’d ever heard, “Please, make it stop.”

Against her better judgment, Clarke raked her nails up his back, got to work removing clothing, and did her best to obey his plea. 

Night time on the Ring was always the hardest. After spending the first several months to a year on the ground fighting every day, having so much quiet and  _ peace _ in space should have felt like a breath of fresh air. Instead the long stretches with nothing to do, no one to save, nothing to run from, had left Clarke unable to ever truly relax. When she was alone, when the ship was dark and quiet, when her family was sleeping or quietly engaging in other night time activities, Clarke relived every harrowing moment from the time she had landed on the ground. Every funeral she had been a part of, every loss she had shouldered and shelves came back to her in the empty silent hours of night. On the worst nights, she saw Lexa and the grief threatened to drag her under.

Clarke pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, submitting to the heavy pressure, trying to force the painful thoughts out of her head. If she started down this path of turbulent recollection she would never get to sleep. After a few minutes of agonizing stillness, Clarke rolled over to face the wall, bringing a knee up towards her chest, and balling her fists under her chin - not the most comfortable position perhaps, but it gave her something else to focus on. Her thoughts then turned to the bunker, to the people trapped there, her mother, Niylah, friends and  _ her people. _ She shook her head again, and rolled over to face the opposite direction. Without warning she wished more than anything else that she wasn’t alone. Her thoughts drifted to Murphy, the only other person alone tonight, and she almost wished he was here next to her. That wasn’t their relationship though, they came together as a necessity, so they didn’t have to be alone amongst their otherwise bonded family members. All the understanding and agreement with their arrangement didn’t change the fact that Clarke would have given just about anything to be wrapped up in someone else’s embrace right now. She felt herself begin to drift off, picturing Murphy and the way he looked at her before he left her bed.

  
  


The incessant hum of machinery was the first thing Clarke was aware of when she stretched contentedly and opened her eyes. The very real, very solid weight of Murphy next to her was the second thing. She tensed with the realization that now they had to somehow pretend he didn’t spend the night with her, then felt confusion flood her brain.

“Murphy!” she hissed, nudging him with what was probably too much force for first thing in the morning, “Did you sneak back in here last night after you left?”

It was the only thing that made sense - she knew she had been alone last night when she fell asleep.

Murphy blinked and rubbed his eyes, then threw an arm around her waist, “No,” he rasps out, his voice gravelly with sleep, “you asked me to stay after we finished last night, remember?”

“No, I didn’t,” Clarke objected stubbornly, “I know I fell asleep alone last night. I wanted you to be here, but I never did anything about it.” Clarke closed her eyes, unable to believe she let the last bit slip out.

Murphy noticed, of course he did, the smug bastard. “You did, did you?” He was insufferable.

Clarke rolled her eyes, then sat up in bed, pulling a shirt on, “Don’t flatter yourself, Murphy.”

Murphy laughs, before getting out of the bed as well and pulling on a pair of pants.

“Are you heading back now?” Clarke asked, surprising herself with how much she wanted him to stay. 

“Yeah, I probably should,” Murphy answered, his voice muffled by the shirt that was halfway over his head.

Clarke looked down at her hands, trying to hide her disappointment. “Probably for the best,” she agreed quietly.

Murphy examined her quietly, “I’ll see you later,” he finally said.

Before Clarke could formulate a response, Murphy had grinned at her and quietly slipped out of her room. She tried to shake the familiarity of the exchange, but couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling that something was amiss.

When Clarke walked into the common room, she saw Bellamy reading just like he had been the previous day. She cursed inwardly, then collected herself and continued into the room. She begged for this to simply be a coincidence.

“Morning Clarke,” Bellamy greeted warmly, looking up from his novel.

Clarke sat on the end of the couch, nudging Bellamy’s feet to make room. “Good book?” she inquired.

“Nothing mind blowing but it’s keeping me busy,” Bellamy answered, “are you excited for New Year’s Eve tonight?”

Clarke stopped in her tracks. She couldn’t believe this was still happening. Was she really reliving New Year’s Eve?

“New Year’s was yesterday,” Clarke said weakly, her voice more of a whimper than she wanted to admit.

Bellamy stared at her with a worried expression. “No,” he said slowly, “Today is New Year’s Eve. Do you feel okay? Maybe you should go lie down.”

“Oh. Yeah. You’re right,” Clarke agreed as to not raise any alarm, though she  _ knew  _ she was right, and not Bellamy.

The daily routine followed almost to the letter as it had the day before. Murphy was bitter and secluded, Echo joked and moderated truth or dare, and Clarke fell asleep alone and heartbroken. Clarke went through the day convinced that the repetition was some kind of fluke or maybe a product of some bad algae or not enough sleep. She tried to push through the extreme sense of  déjà vu, while desperately looking for clues to make the anomaly end. 

When Clarke woke up once more to Murphy’s arm wrapped comfortingly around her, she was convinced she was dreaming. Dreaminess quickly turned to confusion when she realized that she had somehow woken up on New Year’s Eve  _ again.  _ Confusion shifted to more than irritation, she began to get  _ pissed. _ With no reasoning for why she was suddenly unable to wake up on any day  _ other  _ than New Year’s Eve, Clarke spent the day trying to fix the repetition. She began to do and say things differently, trying to mess around with events and encouraging changes, she wondered what level of control she actually had. That night, instead of sleeping alone, she talked Murphy into staying the night and fell asleep to the steady thump of his heartbeat.

Clarke woke up on the fourth day proud of herself for her cleverness and happier than she had been in a long time. Waking up (intentionally) curled around Murphy was a feeling she felt she could absolutely get used to, and she purposefully tried not to spend too much time thinking about the implications of those feelings. The whole reason this arrangement worked was it’s casual nature. Her musings were cut short when Murphy asked her about the New Year’s Eve party, and she cursed loudly. When Murphy showed up in her bed begging her to take his mind off his heartache, she gave in but found herself holding him tighter and kissing him more tenderly. Afterwards, he got dressed and went back to his room and she didn’t stop him, despite how much she ached to fall asleep in his embrace. It was then that Clarke decided to take matters into her own hands. If the day wasn’t going to change for her, she was going to change the day. If nothing else, it would give her something to do to keep her busy on this godforsaken ship.

  
  
  
  


At lunch on the fifth day, after Clarke intentionally reworked her morning’s duplicated activities, she was caught off guard when an unanticipated Murphy appeared to eat with the group. 

“Hey,” Murphy greeted her warmly, for him anyway, as he sat down next to her. 

Clarke smiled at him, leaned closer to him touching his shoulder with hers in a show of genuine affection. “I’m a little shocked to see you,” Clarke remarked quietly.

“Eh, I figured I’d keep you on your toes.” 

Clarke didn’t even mind this time, when Echo started telling the lamest jokes anyone had ever heard during the meal. Murphy’s presence at lunch had brightened her day more than she thought possible, and she stared at him surreptitiously, trying not to think too hard about the repercussions of feeling that way.

Once the algae had been ingested with minimal complaint, Clarke found herself reclined in one of the chairs, surrounded by the rest of Spacekru. Echo was laid out across the floor, flicking a small knife back and forth, obvious boredom etched across her face. Bellamy was playing a quiet game of cards with Harper and Monty, Raven and Emori were pouring over a technical manual and talking softly, and Murphy was pretending to be asleep stretched out in the chair next to Clarke.

“I’m bored,” Echo announced, to no one in particular, “let’s play a game.”

Several voices rang out against the idea collectively, and Echo’s face flashed with a gloomy expression. 

After several minutes of quiet, Harper spoke up, ever the peacemaker, “Does ‘Would You Rather?’ sound good, Echo?”

Echo quickly sprang up to a sitting position, beaming at Harper, “Yes! I’ll go first!”

Clarke shook her head slightly, laughing under her breath. One of the biggest surprises to have come out of Praimfaya was Echo’s ease at becoming the family entertainment organizer.

Clarke heard the sounds of Echo and Raven training before she made her way into the living area later that afternoon. She took a seat at the table, watching them spar with a half interested expression, thrilled that she had missed out on being invited to join. Echo enjoyed training the other members of Spacekru in the art of hand to hand combat almost as much as she enjoyed orchestrating family game nights, though Clarke found she was happy to do without getting her butt kicked by the former Azgeda spy. Raven swung and landed a precise kick, causing Echo to pause and compliment Raven; Clarke was amused to see that Raven’s earlier accidental explosion incident hadn’t impacted her abilities when it came to sparring.

“Can I sit?” a soft voice interrupted Clarke’s musings. She looked up to see Emori looking at her with a slightly apprehensive expression.

“Yes, of course,” Clarke nodded, motioning at the empty chair. 

Emori sat down quietly, turning to watch Echo and Raven with a pensive look on her face. Clarke looked back and forth between Emori and the sparring exhibition, trying to decide what to say, aware of how awkward she found the silence when Emori suddenly turned towards Clarke.

“How’s John?” Emori asked so quietly Clarke almost didn’t hear her.

“What?” she could hear her voice shake, and couldn’t stop it. 

Emori looked at her, more intensely this time, and repeated, “How is John doing? Just because we-,” she swallowed sharply, “just because we aren’t together anymore, it doesn’t mean I don’t care about him.”

Clarke blinked, trying to formulate a response that was more eloquent than what was currently bouncing around in her head. “Why are you asking me?” She finally managed to get out.

Emori studied her with a complex expression, and when she finally spoke her words made Clarke’s breath seize completely. “Because you’re the only one he can stand to be around. And because you care about him.”

Clarke was still stunned, words lost on her tongue and her mind racing. Emori looked at her oddly then, cocked her head the slightest bit, and asked, “Was I wrong? I’m sorry, it just seemed like you two had grown close. And anyway, I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t alone all the time, he doesn’t do well trapped in his own head. That’s all I wanted to say, I’ll see you later tonight.” Without a second glance, Emori eased herself up from the table and disappeared toward her bedroom. 

Clarke felt the breath she had been holding escape her in one shocked exhale.  _ Well shit,  _ she thought to herself sardonically,  _ so much for being stealthy. _

Clarke found Murphy sitting in their spot after her initial searches hadn’t turned him up. If he noticed her walking up, he hid it well, not acknowledging her presence until she was sitting next to him.

“Emori asked me about you.” Clarke didn’t feel the need to sugar coat anything with him - he was too smart, and she wasn’t good enough at lying to him.

Murphy laughed, a dark bitter laugh that made Clarke shiver. “Good for her,” Murphy finally spat out, “I don’t want to talk about her.”

“So let’s not.” Clarke didn’t really want to talk about his ex-girlfriend either. 

Murphy turned then to look at her, and Clarke tried desperately to ignore the cavernous sorrow that clouded the blue in his eyes. He leaned in then, and suddenly his lips were on her, and her hands were grasping his neck. Clarke felt herself being lowered, her back being laid against the floor more gently than she expected, and then Murphy’s reassuring familiar weight was on top of her. She heard a quiet moan escape his lips when she ran her tongue along his bottom lip, seeking entrance and maybe some forgetting.

Clarke hissed with pleasure when he slipped his hand under the hem of her shirt and gently caressed her hip and up her side. The kisses continued to deepen, though they didn’t go any further knowing they were still out in the open. Clarke didn’t say anything about the salty tears she tasted in his kisses, and he didn’t mention the grief she still couldn’t hide from this man who had come to know her too well.

“Happy New Year!” Raven called out gleefully as Clarke made her entrance to her second New Year’s Eve celebration in as many days. She dropped herself into the only empty chair, took a cup of Monty’s moonshine, and hoped this party would go smoother than the first edition.

“We’re just missing Murphy,” Bellamy observed, sounding unsurprised.

“I’m sure he’s on his way.” Harper was ever the optimist. 

“Movie first, and then games, right?” Echo asked, well on her way to tipsy already.

Raven nodded in agreement, then added, “And everyone has to kiss someone at midnight. I’ve got a countdown.” She messed with a couple of buttons and flashing numbers appeared on a screen, showing less than three hours until midnight.

Clarke rolled her eyes, plans to leave before midnight solidified, if Murphy even showed up. Nevertheless she settled into the chair, sipping from her cup, and tried not to think of where Murphy was or how this night was going to go.

Murphy made his appearance halfway through the movie. He hesitated in the doorway, then made the decision to sit on the floor at the edge of the group, but closer to Clarke than anyone else. She wanted to thank him for coming, or maybe to reassure him that tonight would be okay despite the emotional implications, but she knew how seriously Raven took movie nights and so she stayed silent. 

When the movie was over, Clarke refilled her drink and watched Murphy talk to Echo and Bellamy. 

“Having a good time so far?” Harper asked, as she sat down in the chair next to Clarke’s.

“Yeah, the movie was pretty good even though I don’t usually like musicals,” Clarke responded.

“Alright!” Echo exclaimed, several octaves higher than Clarke thought necessary, “It’s game time! Tonight I’ve decided on Truth or Dare.”

Everyone cheered, the moonshine obviously having the desired effect. 

“No Truth or Dare,” Clarke called out over the din, “let’s play cards instead.” Surprisingly, no one challenged her.

“What a party,” Murphy commented later that night, as he lay next to Clarke, one arm under her neck and the other draped across her waist.

“Trust me,” Clarke snorted, “it could have been a lot worse.”

Murphy shrugged, “If you say so,”

She turned to look at him then, as much as she could given the position they were laying in, and asked gently, “How are you doing?”

Murphy closed his eyes briefly and looked at her with the most honest expression she had seen in a long time. “I’m okay,” he whispered, “better right now, but it hurts still.”

Clarke nodded, swallowing the ball of emotion that had bubbled to the surface. “Some days,” she choked out, “some days I miss Lexa so bad I don’t know how I’ll keep going. It’s been  _ years _ now, and some days it feels like I haven’t made any progress at all.”

Flashes of emotion Clarke couldn’t quite place flitted across Murphy’s face, coming and going before he settled with his usual mask of protective indifference. Just as quickly, his expression softened, and he leaned over to place the softest kiss on Clarke’s temple. “I know,” he told her simply, and she knew he did understand her pain, at least somewhat, “and I’m sorry.” She remembered him apologizing that day too, when they were locked in the room where Lexa had died, where her blood still stained the bed black. There had been no time to mourn Lexa, not really, but Murphy had been the only one who had ever really tried.

She didn’t stop the tears when they fell. Instead, Clarke closed her eyes and fit herself into his embrace. When a drunken cheer sounded from somewhere outside her room, Murphy gently kissed her again, whispering, “Happy New Year, Clarke.”

  
  


Clarke woke to kisses being peppered up her throat, and she shuddered with pleasure before stretching lazily. Blearily she opened her eyes and turned to see Murphy looking at her hungrily, his blue eyes darkening as he took her in.

“Good morning.” His voice was sleep rough and laced with something she couldn’t quite put a finger on.

“Good morning to you too,” she murmured then remarked, “You stayed. I’m glad.”

He chuckled lowly, “I know we are supposed to be keeping things between us, but I fell asleep last night, and when I woke up you were here, looking, well,” he gestured to her half covered body.

Clarke snorted, “Ever the charmer.”

“Alright, well on that note, time for me to get going,” Murphy stood up and stretched, then he added, “Happy New Year’s Eve. Maybe I’ll see you tonight.”

Clarke collapsed back into her bed with a sigh.  _ Oh dammit,  _ she thought,  _ not again. _

“That algae might have been your best yet,” Raven decided, setting her bowl down on the table with a flourish.

Monty puffed up, glanced at Harper, “Really? You think so?”

Raven snorted, “No Monty, it’s still disgusting, but I’m glad I’m still able to convince you otherwise.”

Harper clapped her hands over her mouth as a laugh escaped. “I’m sorry, Monty, I know you’re doing your best,” Harper rested a free hand on Monty’s and squeezed, “we all appreciate your algae.”

“Yes Monty, your algae is the best gross thing we’ve all ever tasted,” Murphy jested, surprisingly upbeat. 

Bellamy tossed a balled up napkin across the table, hitting Murphy directly on the forehead, “Nice one, Murphy.”

Emori had been watching the whole exchange subdued from her seat, before finally remarking softly, “I’m glad to see you joking, John. You look happy.”

Immediately, the conversation at the table stopped and Clarke chanced a look at Murphy. She felt her chest hum with something she couldn’t identify when he looked at her across the table and nodded, “Yeah. I guess I am.”

Clarked chewed on her lip as she worked on a sketch, half paying attention to gentle conversation from the other side of the room. Moments like this, she thought wryly to herself, made being stuck up in space for five years not so bad. The surprising things that had come out of this forced confinement continued to amuse her, such as Echo’s delight in having fun and Emori’s aptitude for learning about engineering and mechanics. In the peace and relative safety of the Ring, Monty and Harper’s relationship had strengthened and their happiness was apparent. 

“What do you miss most about Earth?” Echo asked from her place on the couch, her head in Bellamy’s lap.

Murphy laughed, leaning back against Clarke’s legs from his spot on the floor in front of her chair, “Easy. The food.”

Echo nodded in agreement, and everyone else laughed, even Monty from the kitchen where he was finishing the dishes.

“I miss the rain,” Harper sighed, tucking her feet under herself, but quickly added, “the normal rain, not the black rain of course.”

Emori looked up from where she was reading some sort of technical instruction book when the group got expectantly quiet. She surveyed the assortment of strangers turned family, her gaze ending on Raven and considered, “I don’t know, I think space has its perks.”

Echo, ever the delicate conversationalist, chose that moment to announce, “I miss not having to recycle pee.”

“And that’s enough of ‘let’s reminisce about Earth time!’” Raven snorted, then grabbed Emori’s hand and stood up. “Come on, Emori, let’s go work on that experiment.”

“That better not be code for something!” Echo retorted at their retreating backs, and Bellamy shook his head at her in mock disbelief.

“Don’t blow anything up!” Clarke snickered as she looked up from her drawing.

Raven raised a middle finger in reply and disappeared into the bridge.

After an hour of lazing around, Echo decided it was time to change activities. “Alright Spacekru,” she announced, clapping her hands, “Swords or hand to hand fighting today?”

Murphy stood up gracefully from his spot on the floor, looked at Echo and snarked, “That’s my cue to leave and find something to do that’s less fun, like deal with the latrines.”

Chuckles rang out amongst everyone, and even Echo smiled at Murphy’s retort. “Fine, fine, I see how it is,” she consented, “but can you at least go grab Raven and Emori? They aren’t getting out of this so easily.”

Murphy gave a sardonic look, but turned and made his way toward the bridge.

Harper shook her head, “He’s such an enigma sometimes. Anyway, I think Monty and I are going to pass today.”

Echo looked completely disappointed, “Pass?” she protested, “Oh come on it’ll be-”

Echo’s plea was cut off by a blast coming from the bridge. Clarke jumped, her sketchbook falling to the floor. She shook her head, willing her heart to stop racing, and inwardly chastising herself for being startled by something that she should have expected.

The door opened suddenly, smoke and people pouring out.

“Are you guys okay?” Bellamy, ever the parental figure, called out.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Raven coughed, looking behind her to check on Emori and Murphy.

“I’m fine,” Emori gave a thumbs up, then dusted herself off, “Sorry everyone.”

“On that note, I’m never doing anyone’s errands ever again,” Murphy grumbled, “and I’m going back to my side of the ship.” He stalked off without a second glance, and no one made a move to stop him.

Clarke briefly considered running after him, to check and make sure he was okay, but decided against it. He knew where to find her, and she figured making the decision to participate in Echo’s fight club might be the energy release she needed to get through this day for the third time.

Clarke hated looking at Earth from up in space. No matter how much time she had spent in the stars looking down on Earth, the view felt foreign. She missed the ground so much sometimes that she ached with longing and quiet moments on the Ring exacerbated that feeling. She stretched her legs out in front of her, feeling the delicious burn of muscles pushed to their limit. Training with Echo had been a good decision today she decided, giving her mind something else to focus on.

A sudden noise startled her, and Clarke spun around from her spot on the floor to investigate. Murphy had tripped walking down the hallway, and had caught himself mid tumble.

“Trip over your feet again? Graceful,” Clarke snorted.

“Can it, Griffin,” Murphy retorted, rubbing his abdomen absently, “Or I won’t come hang out with you tonight.”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” Clarke stuck her tongue out at him. This side of Murphy was one of her favorites and she felt privileged to be able to tease and joke with him. 

Murphy sat down with a groan, and placed an arm around Clarke’s back. She leaned into the embrace, grateful as always for the contact.

“You okay?”

Murphy hummed vaguely, holding her a little tighter. 

“I hope this New Years party doesn’t get too wild tonight,” Clarked mused, thinking of the first night she’d celebrated and all of the other ways things could end painfully.

“It’ll be fine,” Murphy reassured her, pressing a light kiss to the top of her head, “You’ll be there.”

“You know Murphy,” Clarke smirked, “if I didn’t know any better I’d think you really like me.” 

His gaze softened when he looked at her, and she tried to pretend that the racing in her heart had nothing to do with the idea that his feelings might be more than either of them had anticipated. 

Murphy stared at her for a few charged moments, and then murmured, “I’ll see you later, Clarke.”

Nervous energy drove Clarke to get to be the first to the common area. She paced around the room trying to decide where to sit and wondering when everyone else would show up. She wanted to get this version of the celebration over and see if she would wake up on a new day, and then wanted to get a handle on what was going on with her and Murphy. Hearing the first sounds of something walking down the hallway sent Clarke pacing the room again.

“Let’s get the party started!” Raven called as she approached, “Clarke, are you the only one here so far?”

Clarke looked around the empty room, shrugged her shoulders and smirked, “Guess so.”

“Well, you can help me set up then.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Clarke was happy to be given a task to take her mind off Murphy and everything that she felt when she thought of him.

“Happy New Year, Spacekru!” Echo bellowed, as she entered the room followed by a much more sedate Bellamy and Emori.

Clarke couldn’t help but laugh at the entrance, still amazed at Echo’s transformation during their time in space.

“Where’s everyone else?” Emori asked before going to Raven’s side and helping set up the movie screen.

“Monty and Harper should be coming any minute,” Bellamy answered, “and Murphy, well, who knows where Murphy is.”

“What movie are we watching Raven?” Echo asked, staking out a spot on the couch for her and Bellamy.

“RENT,” Clarke answered without thinking.

“Yes,” Raven concurred slowly, “how did you know? I just found the movie last night.”

“Lucky guess.” Clarke told Raven then silently thanked Monty and Harper for their attention diverting late entrance. 

“Sorry, sorry!” Monty apologized, dragging Harper (whose red face gave the reason for their tardiness) behind him.

“Welcome!” Echo called, the celebratory feeling of the day making her sillier than normal, “Come grab a seat! Did you bring the moonshine?”

Monty brandished a bottle, “Of course I did, what’s a party without some moonshine?”

“Take your seats, Spacekru,” Raven announced with a flourish, “it’s movie time!”

“Murphy’s not coming?” Harper asked as she looked around the room.

“He’ll come if he wants to,” Bellamy answered, settling next to Echo on the loveseat.

Clarke tried to push off the feelings of sadness, curled up in the armchair she had claimed, and turned her attention to the movie screen.

  
  


Clarke was engrossed in the movie, laughing along with everyone, when movement caught her eye. “Murphy,” she called out, unable to hide her delight at seeing him, “You made it.”

He nodded, but something in his eyes didn’t look right. 

“You okay?” Bellamy questioned, agreeing with Clarke’s assessment.

Murphy made his way to the chair next to Clarke and collapsed as he started to sit down.

Clarke felt her heart stop completely, the fear freezing everything in her body. She heard someone screaming Murphy’s name, and didn’t realize it was her until Echo touched her arm. She ran to his side, cradling his head and running her hands over his face.

When she looked up, she saw absolute terror in the faces of every member of Spacekru. 

“We need to do something,” Clarke cried out in desperation. She felt the tears begin to well up in her eyes and she swiped at them angrily, what a useless thing to have tears interfering right now.

“What’s wrong?” Emori demanded, “Did he say anything to anyone else?”

Silent faces stared around the room, everyone completely in shock.

“He was fine earlier,” Clarke sniffed, struggling to keep the tears and the terror from completely overtaking her. She felt like she was drowning, “What is it?!? I don’t understand!”

Echo quickly became the voice of reason and ordered people to different roles. “Clarke,” Echo directed, her voice firm but underlyingly kind, “stay here by his head since you have the most medical training. We need to figure out what is wrong with him.”

Clarke nodded as she watched the tears drop onto Murphy’s shirt. As she moved to check for obvious sources of injury, Murphy began to open his eyes, looking around in confusion at all of the people gathered.

“Hey,” Clarke murmured, caressing his cheek oblivious to their friends who were privy to Clarke’s feelings.

“Clarke,” Murphy breathed, his voice much smaller than normal, “I’m fine. I just didn’t eat enough, or something.” He tried to sit up and Clarke cried out in shock as his eyes rolled back into his head before he collapsed back against the floor, his head making a sickening thud.

Clarke was aware of several things - of Emori crying softly, of Echo barking out orders, of Bellamy and Monty moving around urgently, but mostly she was aware of Murphy. Murphy who still hadn’t woken up, whose face had suddenly gone so pale his eyelids were purple and his lips were tinged a sickening blue, Murphy who looked like he was  _ dying _ , and who she suddenly realized she couldn’t live without.

“Murphy,” Clarke pleaded desperately, tears now streaming down her face in angry streams, “John, please,  _ please  _ wake up, you can’t do this.”

Clarke was hyper focused on Murphy, unaware of anyone else in the room, and when Murphy opened his eyes and focused blearily on her, Clarke wept fresh tears of relief.

“Uh, Clarke, you need to see this,” Raven spoke solemnly as she raised Murphy’s shirt and pointed to his skin.

Clarke gasped in shock when she saw the massive dark purple bruise that darkened the skin of Murphy’s abdomen. “What the hell happened,” she demanded brokenly, feeling her breath tangle up and get stuck in her throat.

“The bridge,” Murphy mumbled, his words muffled with the effort it took for him to speak, “it didn’t look that bad, I felt okay.”

Clarke let out a mangled wail, “You stupid, stupid man. This is serious, Murphy! You should have told me!”

He cracked a smile, though it looked like it took more energy than he had left to give, “Didn’t want to ruin the party.”

“That ship sailed,” Raven muttered sardonically though the tears running down her cheeks nullified any joking.

“I’m sorry, Clarke,” Murphy whimpered, a single tear sliding down his cheek before his eyes went blank and his breathing stopped.

Clarke screamed and then the world went completely black.

Clarke woke with a strangled gasp as the events of the previous day, (or was it the last version of this day?) came rushing back to her.

“Whassa matter?” Murphy croaked, appearing from under a tangle of blankets, his hair standing in wild directions.

“John,” Clarke wailed, pouncing on him and knocking him back into the bed.

“Since when do you call me John?” Murphy laughed, “and what’s with the tackle? Not that I mind, of course.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her playfully.

“Shut up and kiss me,” Clarke breathed, and she brought her mouth to his, slowly this time as she savored the familiar taste and feel of him underneath her.

“Yes ma’am,” Murphy muttered as he ran a hand up her side before cupping the back of her head.

“I lost you,” Clarke murmured and rested her forehead against his. She closed her eyes in relief and took a deep breath to study her erratic heartbeat.

“I’m here,” Murphy soothed, caressing her cheek, “it’s okay. It was just a bad dream.”

Clarke leaned into another kiss comforted by the  _ realness _ of him, and thanked whoever was listening that she got another chance with Murphy.

Clarke stalked into the common area, so consumed in her thoughts about why this damned day kept repeating that she didn’t notice Bellamy had put his book down and was looking at her expectantly. 

“You okay?” Bellamy’s concern was evident, and had Clarke not been so infuriated with having to go through another cycle of New Year’s Eve she would have been touched. 

Clarke exhaled sharply, frustrated, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a lot on my mind.”

“I understand that,” Bellamy nodded, “just know you aren’t alone. If you need anything I’m here for you. So is everyone else, you just need to ask.”

Clarke felt her chest constrict at his words, she knew he was telling the truth of course, but hearing them had been exactly what she needed.

“Thanks, Bellamy,” she answered genuinely, “that means more than I can ever tell you.”

“Algae is gross,” Echo whined at lunch. She stared miserably at her bowl, “I would give just about anything for some meat.”

“Or fruit,” Emori added, “I miss fruit.”

“Cake,” Monty chimed in, “Mount Weather was terrible, but man do I miss the food.”

Murphy sauntered up to the table at that moment. “Hello, space family,” he grinned, “what did I miss?”

“Algae versus real food discussion,” Raven supplied helpfully.

“That is no contest,” Murphy deadpanned, “Algae tastes like shit.”

Clarke couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculous turn the conversation had taken, but at least, she acknowledged, they hadn’t resorted to knock knock jokes.

Echo was bored again. Clarke looked up from her sketchbook when Echo started pacing around the room, cagy and full of pent up energy. Everyone else was quietly preoccupied, Monty and Murphy playing chess while Harper watched, Bellamy reading, and Emori messaged Raven’s injured leg as the two talked softly.

“Does anyone want to play  _ Would You Rather? _ ” Clarke asked, looking pointedly at Echo.

Echo stopped pacing, bounded over to Clarke, and declared, “Have I ever told you you’re my favorite person, Clarke?”

“Nice to know where I rank,” Bellamy scoffed with a laugh.

“I go first!” Echo decided and looked around the room to pick her first victim. “Murphy! Would you rather throw up on your crush or have your crush throw up on you?”

Murphy looked horrified, “What kind of question is that?”

After several rounds of the game, and little to no unnecessary drama, Monty and Harper left, using the excuse of needing a nap, which no one believed. Raven dragged Emori into the bridge, and Clarke panicked and made them promise to stay away from explosives. “Yes, mother,” Raven rolled her eyes impressively.

“Murphy, are you going to train with us,” Bellamy asked, as he helped Echo clear a space.

“Sure,” Murphy shrugged his shoulders, “there’s not much else to do around here.”

“Clarke?”

“Why not,” Clarke answered, “At least we can make it even. No kneecap shots.” She pointed at Echo who raised her arms in surrender.

“I’m glad to see you out more,” Bellamy said to Murphy, while he steadied the punching bag they had hung up.

“I didn’t realize you were that concerned about my whereabouts,” Murphy grumbled as he got into position and threw a few practice punches.

“Just glad to see you not isolating yourself. It isn’t good for you, I know how much you’re hurting after Emori-”

Murphy interrupted firmly, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Bellamy gave in, motioning to the bag. “I wasn’t trying to upset you, it’s just good to see you being involved.”

Clarke watched the exchange from where she stood with Echo, her heart lifted by the friendship.

Murphy fell into step beside Clarke when she headed back to her room after the training session, and she couldn’t help but smile when he grasped her hand in his.

“What’s this?” Clarke asked, raising their joined hands and giving him a pointed look.

“Felt like it,” Murphy muttered, his cheeks reddening slightly. 

Clarke smiled to herself before she asked, “Are we going to my room, or are we space watching?”

“Your room.” Murphy’s answer was immediate and certain.

Her heart thudded with anticipation and also a nervous giddiness. “Lead the way then.”

Murphy’s mouth was on hers before they had even made it through the door. He kissed her and walked her backwards through the room, bouncing off an occasional wall as they made their way to the bed. 

Clarke giggled loudly when they reached the bed and she fell backwards, Murphy landing awkwardly half on top of her. “Don’t squish me!” She told him through her laughter.

“Not gonna squish you,” Murphy panted, “just want to kiss you.”

“Please. Kiss me. I need you.” She felt breathless with the exhilaration of having him invade her senses so completely.

“You’ve got me,” He breathed, stopped to study her, added, “Clarke, I love you. I’m in love with you.”

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, except to hear those words  _ I love you. _ “I love you too,” she confessed, “I think I have for awhile now.”

He nodded and looked so overcome by emotion that she wondered if he was unable to speak. 

She decided that speaking was overrated, and kissing was more fun.

“We’re going to be late,” Clarke murmured as she traced a finger lazily up Murphy’s chest and back down. She giggled when he jumped at a ticklish spot.

“Do you really care?” Murphy teased her. He gazed at her, his blue eyes so clear and full of such an intense love she couldn’t help but blush.

“No. Not really.”

“Besides,” Murphy continued, “If I know Raven she’s picked some movie I won’t like, probably a musical, and while Monty’s moonshine will succeed in getting us drunk it tastes like shit.” His voice changed then, got quieter, “I don’t need to be drunk to enjoy myself tonight.”

Clarke turned towards him, hooked her leg up across his body and wrapped her arm around his chest. “Me either,” She whispered before she kissed him softly. She pulled away from the kiss, thought better of it, and kissed him hungrily, their bodies curving to fit together perfectly.

Eventually they pulled apart, and Clarke tucked her head underneath his chin. “Think we can stay here a little longer?” Murphy mused.

“We can stay as long as you want,” Clarke murmured sleepily, “trust me, I’ve had enough of New Year’s Eve to last me a lifetime. I’d much rather stay here.”

“All the best people are fashionably late to parties,” Murphy justified, “they can start without us.”

In the end, Clarke figured not showing up to the party would raise enough suspicion and she didn’t relish the idea of anyone being sent to find her only to glean more information than they had bargained for.

The movie was halfway over when Clarke and Murphy sauntered into the common area. “I told you it would be a musical,” Murphy hissed as he sat down into the only chair left, then pulled Clarke into his lap. He kissed her knuckles tenderly and looked up startled when the movie stopped playing.

Clarke couldn’t help but snicker when she looked up to six pairs of wide and amused eyes. 

“Um, when were you going to tell us about this little development?” Raven smirked, waving her hand around animatedly.

Murphy looked at Clarke, smiled and then looked back up at the gang. “Right now?”

“Are you both happy?” Bellamy asked. Echo was tucked under his arm and looked interested.

Clarke nodded and leaned back into Murphy’s chest, gently squeezed his hand. “So happy,” she promised.

Emori’s voice sounded softly, “I am so happy for you, John.”

Murphy stilled for a moment, gathered his thoughts, and responded, “Thanks Emori, that means a lot.”

After various other congratulatory comments, everyone settled back into their seats but before Raven could restart the movie Echo stood up, practically vibrating with excitement. “Guys! Now that everyone is paired up we can play couple games!”

“Will you stay the night?” Clarke asked when they returned to her room after midnight.

Murphy enveloped her in a tender hug, rubbed her back, “Anytime. Every night, if that’s what you want.”

“Absolutely,” she whispered, “Every night,”

Murphy smiled at her and his eyes grew more and more tired. 

“Sleep,” she told him and planted a kiss on his bare shoulder before she fell asleep, their limbs tangled.

“Good morning,” Murphy murmured, his lips against Clarke’s temple.

Clarke moaned gently as she woke up, delighting in the feel of Murphy’s body intertwined with hers. 

“Last night was amazing,” Murphy told her as he dropped light kisses over her face and neck, “although I am impressed that no one has dropped by to be obnoxiously happy for us.”

Clarke turned sharply to meet his gaze, “Last night? What was last night?”

Murphy cocked his head, “I think you had way too much to drink. Maybe you should get some more rest. And drink some water. Last night was the New Year’s Eve party, remember, everyone now knows we’re a thing? Echo has decided to turn every game night into a couple’s game night.”

Clarke let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding in a sharp exhale. “Thank goodness,” she breathed out before she kissed Murphy deeply.

Murphy laughed when they parted, “You should have amnesia more often, I like the after effects.” He ruffled her hair, “Also, I love your bed head.”

She rolled her eyes at him, then became serious again. “I love you,” she whispered, caressing his cheek and pulling him into a kiss. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
